Life Is Too Short

The prison door slammed shut, I opened my eyes and studied the
scenery that laid before me.
Slate-grey walls were discovered, that rose a pallid expression upon
me. The cell was sombre and dim, and I could tell from my first
experience as I walked in that it had been many years since a humans
presence was in contact. The slate-grey walls were assorted into a
disorganized jigsaw puzzle that were scratched, marked and poisoned
with gruesome words. Cement collided into assorted textures and the
corners of the walls were clustered with spider webs and tiny holes
leaking with green sewage, leaving a musky odorous atmosphere. A rope
dangled above my head with a neck hook. I shuddered at the sight of
it.
My daily essentials such as my bed, my sink and my toilet were lined
irregularly on the bare floor. My bed was a brown mattress containing
fragments of springs thrown everywhere. Dried muck, dirt, blood stains,
pieces of dust and hideous stained marks covered the bed. I shivered
and feared. My sink was an old, rusty and dry with a bowl positioned
underneath. The bowl was battered and cracked, along with my toilet
replaced with a bucket that was abused, broken and battered at the
sides.
I took a long glance on the floor before I noticed it was trespassed
with footprints and patches of urine and trickles of blood, clotted in
the corner. I tried to avoid the scenery before me but too much of what
I perceived finally made me realise where I was and how my life would
befall.
What if I died here, I thought to myself. The thought haunted me, and I
began to cry underneath the clatter from outside. My life.?shattered to
pieces and all I could do was see it go.
The claustrophobic room and it's ghastly features left me in an eerie
rigid position, a mystical sensation filled my veins towards my blood
and overflow my head. My knees quivered, my hands rattled and my head
reformed into it visual image.
I stood dead in my tracks, observing the mouldy cell, walking around,
my sandals sticking to the ground and feeling the hideous marked walls,
inhaling the vile, crust sickening dirt. I sneezed.
I felt as if freedom was a waste, I felt my life ending even though I
had just entered. I felt every minute of my life draining away at my
feet as I tried to adapted the scenery that laid before me.
I paused, "this is my home" I mumbled silently, biting my lips against
tears, smearing a tear that ran down the demolished colour in my
cheeks.
I paced to the rear of the cell, the walls caved in as I backend
further towards the corner and crouched down, clutching my knees and
cradling my head in my arms. Silence cramped the room. I sighed.
A ray of light glimmered through a tiny hole from the cell door. I
gasped and deepened my head further into my arms. The light glimmered
towards the floor and sparkled in my eye, I twitched as it throbbed
with pain.
I watched the walls as it suddenly created shadows from the ray of
light, the gruesome words stood out.
The shadow was blocked.
I clutched my trouser leg and ducked my head further into my arms. I
cringed and watched.
Strangers passed the hole continuously, I froze as it made an
irritating blinking effect in the cell. The cell grew darker. I
crouched more towards the corner, my head squeezing towards the
prickly, uneven cement.
Strangers walked passed. The light was free. A wave of relief washed
over me.
There was silence.
A scream.
I cringed in fright and clutched my trouser tighter as the screams grew
nearer. The hole was blocked again.
Darkness grew over me and I felt a creepy sensation occurring.
Everything happened so fast.
A scream, darkness.
A females scream was at presence, it was coming closer and closer
towards the cell. I frowned as it grew closer?and closer.
A deep trembling, husky voice filled with anger, depravity was at
presents. The words were harsh and offensive. It came form the door, I
trembled.
A clatter of keys. The key turned. My eyes widened. It opened.
Two brawny men encircled a tall, sleek women and aggressively threw her
into the cell. They slammed the cell door shut, it shattered.
The women lay defenceless on the floor in deep pain. I watched her as
she attempted to move. She was hurt, with bruises surrounding her body.
She moaned in agony under the shouts from the corridor. I felt sorry
for her. I heard her whine and sob gently. She finally pulled up gently
on her knees and brushed herself, staring at me. I observed her face
for while, she looked on the ground, her back hunched and her head
hanging low.
She seemed tense and depressed, I cold tell by her patent blue crystal
eyes surrounded by ringlets of old skin, puffy and swollen. Her messed
up blonde hair leaned on her broad shoulders. The mood of the cell made
her cheeks weaken in colour that made it looked pale, purple and
swollen. She looked beaten. I took a long glance at her before she
moved again. This time she leaned towards the wall
I looked at her eyes shimmering at me. Her face angled in an arch, she
pulled an expression. It seemed like a smile.
Was it a smile?
What shall I do?
I smiled back. Felt happy.
The cell felt bigger than before and more wider and spacious, seeing
there was another human being in here filling the presence.
The stranger sat on the broken mattress and squirmed, finding a more
suitable position, she swung her hair to one side and crammed against
the wall.
There was nothing we could do except avoid each others feelings. There
was silent, but it was broken by the women's voice.
" Why are you here?" A faint, delicate high-pitched voice brought a
distinguishing glow to the cell, it seemed like a splash of colour was
thrown. I answered in my mid, upper-class accent.
" Umm?I was kidnapped," I stammered, my eyes widened a I stared on the
ground with a look of shame. My ears were alert to what she was going
to say next.
We both stood mute.
I move from the corner, I never realised my clothes were spoilt and
stained by the leaking sewage. I shuffled towards the bed and leaned my
head against it. The women had rags that were torn and filthy, one of
her trouser leg looked ripped. I saw her quivering knees underneath
them and her hands covering them her nails bitten and swollen, chipped
and dirty, spoilt from it's healthy colour.
I glanced at her, her lip quivered, I knew she'll say something but it
seemed hard for her to say.
" D?drugs." She stammered, a tiny tear rolled down her cheeks, " You
know you just crave it more and more until it leads to nearly killing
yourself."
I examined her sobbing and sighing, her ,mascara running down her
cheeks and trickles of black tears draining slowly onto her ragged
T-shirt. She stood up from the ground and sat on the bed, I watched her
as she pulled a sachet of whit powder from her torn trousers.
I squirmed in the corner. I had general idea of what she had.
Drugs.
I watched her as she shook her bag and waved it around my face.
She looked at me.
" Want some?" She asked, she gave me a second to answer but I rapidly
replied, " no" and hunched my back further as she empted the contents
into her hand ad sniffed it through her nose.
I watched her as she licked her lips in ecstasy and leaned towards the
wall, smiling and sniffing, She looked at me.
" By the way, my name's Cecile." Said the stranger, stretching a hand
forth. I reached out and shook it.
" Oh, " I introduced myself, " my name is Henrietta."
She nodded her head and commented, " that's a nice name." I felt
awarded and I knew that at least one thing was going to keep me happy
in here.

An hour had passed and Cecile had been talking about her past life. I
listened as she sorrowfully wept and spoke.
" I was thrown in here coz of drugs." Said Cecile, 2 sold some and got
nabbed for it."
I shook my head in response and listened to her, " why do you take it?"
I was curious about the subject of drugs.
Cecile shrugged hers shoulders.
" I dunno." She gave me an extract of how and why she took drugs.
" I guess it was when I was nine. Billy, my brother, was nabbed for
dealing on the streets. I tried a bit. I hanged with his mates and this
boy I?kind of liked. We got together at about fifteen and me and him
started taking and dealing. I had my first pregnancy at sixteen, but
then they were taken from me because I was still on the dope." Cecile
began sobbing, " now I got to waste most of my time in this bloody hell
hole."
I watched intently on her eyes filled with tears and her face, torn and
isolated, ripped at the heart her words hard to mumble. I asked a
question, I was very intrigued. I could understand the way she was
feeling.
She spoke again but wept silently, I honored her time.
" I really don't know what to do anymore, I mean when my kids were
taken away, I thought It was the end for me. Day in day out I cry in
pain. My mum and dad died in a plane crash when I as only three so my
brother had to take care of me when he was eight. I never went to
school?I tried but no one could pay for my education so basically I was
dyslectic, I don't really care anyway. I never had a job in my life. I
pay ?30 per bag each evening to get my crack. It takes all my worries
away," she waved her hands in the air and smirked, I could tell from
all her actions, moves and expressions that she was a troubled child,
and it seemed like she had nothing going for her.
I tried talking to her for some advice.
" Well," I paused, " my life weren't sweet and roses anyway."
She stood straight and glanced at me. From my insight I knew she
imagined me to be perfect in everyway but I corrected her thinking into
a more objective sight.
" what do you mean," she asked, " I mean your pretty and you got
everything going for you."
I corrected her and also disregarded the fact I was pretty.
" Well not really. My mum and dad divorced after mum was pregnant for
the fourth time. I was only five. I hated my life anyway, nothing was
ever good for me and my dad were?well we were enemies."
I grew silent and the courage to speak again. This time my voice
dropped into a dissatisfied moan and my eyebrows curled into an
arch.
I felt scared and ashamed but finally I spoke out.
" Umm?he abused me"
I bit my lip against tears but cradled my head in my arms and sniffed.
I stared at Cecile, she cried for me. She walked towards me and sat
beside me, bringing my head against her shoulder and cradling me in her
arms.
I smiled. I felt loved and cared for. She was my friend and I could
feel she had a kind heart. I felt wanted.
" Why did he abuse you?" She asked. I spoke.
" I don't know." I answered, " my mum adored me the most just because I
was the oldest, well that's what I thought anyway. My dad was drunk one
night and I was in the kitchen fetching some milk, my dad came in and
spoke to me rudely saying, " move out the way!" he shouted so loud my
ear drums were going to burst. He pushed me out of the way and because
I was mad I screamed, even though I should have known it was a
mistake.
"Well umm?he was very cross and he?grabbed my head and smashed it on
the headboard."
I saw the image of my dad, I cringed and carried on, I could see the
image in front of me. As if it happened just a second ago. The veins
were sticking out of his hand, his face tensing up and?bang, bang,
bang.
" I cried and cried but nobody heard. My dad warned me not to tell
anyone or I'll be had for. So as you can see I've only told you."
Cecile looked at me, " I'm sorry, " she whispered, "I guess neither of
us has had sweet glorious lives , eh?"
I nodded and agreed. It was true. She did have a point. Neither of us
had anything going or us. I smiled at Cecile, we were both like each
other.
" you know we could be friends?" Said Cecile, my heart glowered with
warm affections. I felt comfortable and I knew I could tell her
anything, I knew she could trust me. I was happy I met somebody as
understanding as her.

The next morning my disturbing dream led to a thumping headache that
woke me up leaving me carelessly in my cell.
I had thoughts that we could be escape together and become good friend.
I woke up from the bed and moved the cover to wake Cecile.
It was empty.
I frowned in disbelief and jumped out of my bed.
I searched around the room observing places.
I looked on the floor. A note was placed.

Dear Henrietta,
Last night I found out you weren't like most people, you were more
kinder and caring then I would imaged and very understanding. But I
really do need to sort out my life and know where it is heading and I'm
afraid that this is it, I've made up my mind, I had to do it.
Just look above your head and understand that this is hard for
me.
I'm sorry, you're a good friend

Yours truly
Cecile
X

I looked above my head and deeply gasped in horror. A message was
engraved on the wall.

Cecile Smith
Died here
X X X